


If the whole world was watching (I'd still dance with you)

by meggiewrites



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Established Relationship, Euro 2016, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Crack, German National Team, Listen There's Something For Everyone Here, M/M, Mutual Pining, Relationship Reveal, Training Camp, Unrequited Love, with a few exceptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 12:39:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14894795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites
Summary: Bastian Schweinsteiger has an idea. It involves one team, three dancing instructors, and a bucketload of left feet.Or, Die Mannschaft takes a ballroom dancing lesson. It goes about as well as you'd expect.





	If the whole world was watching (I'd still dance with you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sevdepayne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevdepayne/gifts), [Khalehla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla/gifts).



> This is based on [this](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/post/156974552915/) post I found on tumblr shortly after the Euros - from the second I saw this I knew I had to write something based on it – took me a small eternity, but here we finally are!
> 
> Thanks to Sevde for the beta! And for Kat for being always there for me – I hope you can accept this as a late birthday present! This also intended to somewhat align with a longer fic Sevde is writing, but it can be read as a standalone. I hope you enjoy!

As with most ideas that were slightly crazy and borderline stupid, it had been Schweini’s.

He’d announced it over breakfast, probably only seconds after he’d thought of it, when he’d suddenly dropped his spoon and had turned to Lukus with a wide grin. Toni, sitting opposite of him, had known there was a disaster approaching from the second he opened his mouth.

“We should learn how to dance,” Bastian had said, “that’d be a fun team building activity!”

Toni had tried to suppress a groan, though he’d only really started to worry when two days later, Bastian, in his full capacity as a captain, had asked the whole team – or at least the ones who didn’t have stay back for an extra physio appointment – to gather in one of the big meeting rooms later that day.

Looks like he’d actually been serious. Except that where Toni had, in the few moments he’d considered this to be an actual possibility, thought that he’d hire a whole dance group to help them – instead, they were only greeted by three instructors.

“I thought we could dance with each other – a lot of us prefer it that way, and as for the others … you can make do, right, guys?”

Toni raised his eyebrows. With the staff around, all of them would have avoided being so forward; but like this, he guessed Bastian had no qualms being more forward, especially when Mats and Benedikt immediately latched onto each other and some of the players openly chuckling at their eagerness. Toni grinned a bit when he realized how crestfallen Bastian looked himself as everyone was pairing up since Lukas as well as some others had been asked for an extra physio appointment. Well, Basti should probably consider that payback for inflicting his insane ideas on them.

As for the others, most of them, surprisingly, seemed up to this crazy idea. Only Leroy and Draxler seemed quite unenthusiastic; even more so when one of the dancing instructors, having spotted them sharing an eyeroll, paired them up together with a gleam in her eyes. As she directed Leroy to put his hand on Julian’s shoulder, the taller only huffed, muttering “why didn’t _we_ get an extra physio appointment,” startling a snicker out of Leroy.

On the other side of the room, as per usual, Mats and Benni were not being subtle at all, already in each other’s arms. Also, there were Thomas and Manuel, who, apparently, were slowly but surely giving up on being subtle about their relationship as they’d moved to stand closer together as soon as Bastian had announced their activity. Toni smirked. Good for them. The only matter of concern were probably Sami and Mesut, who had apparently agreed to dance together but were still in that awkward phase they’d been stuck in for the good last four years or so. But since no one knew what’d happened or why they behaved like this, Toni couldn’t do much more than furrow his eyebrows.

He startled a bit when someone clapped him on the shoulder.

Mario – the older Mario – was grinning down at him. “Do you want to dance?”

Toni gave him a dubious look. He hesitated for a second, but when he checked again, it was clear that everyone else had already paired up. Even Bastian, still pouting, had found a dancing partner in Jérôme.

He sighed. “Sure.”

He tried to not think about how eager Mario looked to put a hand on his waist.

♪♫♬

“You want to what?” Thomas eyed Manuel dubiously. He was pouting, just a little bit, but enough to give him that adorably pretty but determined look that Manu knew Thomas couldn’t say no to.

“You’re the better dancer, so you should be the one to lead.”

Thomas highly doubted that. Both parts of it, actually. He also doubted if there was any way this could end well and not only with broken bones; predictably his own. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but grin back when Manuel put his hand on Thomas’ shoulder, beaming down at him. Putting his own hand on Manuel’s waist felt different than it usually did, somehow more official. The sunlight was catching in his hair, giving him a golden halo.

“You look beautiful, you know.”

Manuel ducked his head. Complimenting him had quickly become one of Thomas’ favourite things when they’d started dating a couple months ago, as soon as he’d found out how their usually so stoic keeper reacted to compliments. Well, compliments about anything else but his goalkeeping skills.

Thomas grinned. “No, you really do!”

“Shut up.”

His grin grew wider as Manuel blushed, belying his words. He was warm underneath his hands, radiant. Occasionally, he looked up, lifting his gaze from where their feet kept bumping together – because in all honestly, they were both terrible dancers with no sense of rhythm – smiling at Thomas.

Thomas didn’t pay too much attention when the instructor came over to help them, and instead kept looking at Manu, who looked terribly focused, nodding alongside the woman’s words.

The dancing went better, afterwards, even if the instructor had also looked hesitant at Thomas leading at first, considering the size and height difference between them.

“But it’s the woman who does all the work when it comes to dancing, you know?” Manuel said, now more than ever convinced that this was a good idea.

Apart from the fact that Thomas was considering if he should be concerned about his boyfriend referring to himself as a woman, Thomas was still expecting them to stumble and fall every second. But instead, he could feel their motions getting smoother, and after a while, he even loosened his grip on Manuel’s waist, feeling a bit more daring.

When he looked at Manu, he was staring at at another part of the room though, grinning to himself.

“Why are you smirking, babe?”

Manuel softly shook his head, turning back to him. “Nothing, love, it’s just goalie stuff.”

♪♫♬

“This is really not how I wanted this to go,” Bastian whined. Which, he was aware, was pretty much everything he’s done for the past fifteen minutes. He almost felt bad for Boa who luckily seemed mostly amused by his pouting. Almost, had he not missed Lukas so much.

Lukas, who, of course, had a special physio appointment today. In his most bitter moments, Bastian believed it was Jogi getting back at them for all the grief they’ve caused him – even if luckily, he didn’t really know what they were doing today – in his best, he thought it was just plain unlucky.

As it was, he was stuck with Boa who was being a good chap, albeit apparently mildly amused at his complaining.

Bastian sniffed, mock-offendedly, rubbing his nose. “Well, I’m glad my suffering seems to annoy you.”

It hurt, just a bit, looking over at Hömmels – as Lukas, of course, had dubbed them – slowly swaying together. Several times, the dancing instructor had tried to separate them, teach them some steps, but every time she’d turned away, the two of them had found the way back into each other’s arms, seemingly forgetting everything around them. And yes, dammit, Bastian was jealous, because that should have been him and Luki.

Also, there was the matter of Manuel and Thomas; and honestly, there was a lot he must have missed since moving to Manchester, because that? That was something he had _not_ seen coming. It was almost a bit comical, how lanky, twig-limbed Thomas spun actual giant Manuel around like he was a ballerina, but by the smiles on their faces and Manuel’s rosy cheeks he could tell how happy they were.

Speaking of blushing goalkeepers, there was also the matter of Manuel’s understudies. Who, a few weeks ago, had still seemed ready to rip each other’s heads off at any given moment, but who had now apparently, voluntarily, chosen each other as dance partners. And given the few tentative smiles they exchanged, actually seemed happy with that.

Bastian sighed. “God, I wish Luki was here.”

Boa snorted. “As you’ve mentioned about a dozen times in the past twenty minutes. So I am not good enough of a dancing partner for you, huh? And this only a ploy to cuddle with your bae in public, or what?”

Actually, he was a better dancer than Lukas could ever hope to be, but Bastian would never tell him that. The second part, he happily left uncommented.

He poked out his tongue at Boa, for a second completely forgetting that he wasn’t that young, naive, childishly-in-love boy he’d been ten years ago anymore, but the captain; that he was supposed to be a role-model and a leader instead of a mischievous prankster. It felt good, to feel like that again, lighter, as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders.

This idea had been silly, he knew, something twenty-year-old him could have come up with; only that now, he had the resources to do it. And Jérôme wasn’t wrong, it had mostly been to have fun with Lukas again, just like they used to, when they’d been younger.

Looking around, he was almost a bit relieved when he realized that even if that hadn’t worked, everyone else seemed to have fun at least. (Well, maybe apart from Draxler and Sané who still looked like they’d rather be anywhere else, or Mesut and Sami which … he didn’t even want to know.) The room was filled with laughter, smiles and ridiculous dance moves that mostly looked like they were a bunch of imbeciles; and it made Bastian smile, even if he missed the feeling of Lukas’ rough palms in his own.

When he turned back to Boa, the centre-back just grinned at him good-naturedly before pushing away, spinning him around.

♪♫♬

Benedikt looked radiant. Granted, Mats always thought so, but right now, with the sunlight illuminating his face, beaming up at Mats with those gorgeous eyes of his, those beloved freckles splattered all over his face, it applied more than ever.

Mats sighed.

“What?” Bene chuckled, tilting an eyebrow.

Mats grinned, pulling him closer before leaning down to press a kiss on his hair. “I love you.” Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see one of the instructors pass by them, rolling her eyes. She’d given up on them after she’d found them three times before when they were, instead of practising their steps, slowly swaying together.

Neither of them were particularly great dancers, but the temptation of cuddling with Bene whenever possible was not something Mats could resist.

He only noticed that Thomas was trying to tell him something when Bene gently tapped his shoulder, pointing at him.

The forward was smirking mischievously. “Shouldn’t you be paying better attention? Won’t you need this at your wedding day?” He winked at them.

Mats only flipped him off good-naturedly. “Fuck off, Mull! Can’t believe you’re trying to tell me how to dance when …”

Before he could finish, and with a big thump, Manuel stumbled over Thomas’ feet, falling flat on his butt. Thomas had tried to prevent it by grabbing onto Manuel’s hands but instead, he was only pulled down with him, landing on top of him with a breathless ‘uff’.

Mats let out a big cackle that dissolved into a fit of laughter at how stupefied the two of them looked trying to untangle their mess of limbs. He only stopped laughing when Bene gently hit him over the head, lifting his eyebrows at him.

You shouldn’t be laughing at your friends, his eyes said, but Mats couldn’t stifle the grin on his lips. He and Thomas had always gotten along well, and they tended to act quite competitive in a constructive way, even if they never had much to do with each other; but if he was being honest, he could see himself becoming friends with the lanky brunette over the course of the next season, what with them playing in the same team.

Even if, apparently, Thomas came as a package deal with one Manuel Neuer, as it seemed.

“He’s not wrong, you know?” Bene quipped, his eyes sparkling. “If we ever get married, I want to dance with you.” For a second, Mats heart skipped a beat before continuing to hammer against his chest. Of course, they’d talked about the possibility before, but hearing those words from Benedikt, his Bene, himself, suddenly, fiercely, made it seem more possible, more real.

So with a groan from Mats, a grin from Thomas – who had by now helped Manuel up again – and an appreciative glance from the instructor, he tried to recall what he’d been told earlier.

♪♫♬

Emre was being more taciturn than usual. Musti knew he’d never been one of the chattiest fellows, but there was clearly something weighing him down.

“You okay, buddy?” Let’s just say he’d never been one for beating around the bush. The wide-eyed look he received in return clearly told him that Emre hadn’t been expecting the question.

Musti shrugged. “You look like your pet turtle died, mate. This is supposed to be fun! And since you don’t seem so opposed to the dancing lessons itself, it must be something else. Just an easy conclusion.”

Emre sighed, letting his gaze skip over the happy couples – how many of them were actually couples, Musti didn’t know; well, apart from Hömmels, who were, as always, far from subtle. But if there was one thing he knew it was that if you were heterosexual in this team, you were definitely part of a minority – before returning to stare holes into the floor.

“It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.”

That teased a tiny grin out of Emre. “God, can’t a guy be lovelorn in peace around here? It’s bad enough that everyone in here seems to be on cloud nine at the moment. Apart from Schweini, probably. Sucks for him.”

Musti raised his eyebrows. “Oh so that’s it, you’re lovesick?”

Emre huffed. “Not exactly. It’s just that it sucks, having a crush on someone you know you don’t have a chance with.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Very. They’re in a relationship and trust me, they look like they’re gonna stay together forever. Oh don’t look so concerned, it isn’t one of the lads!”

Well, that at least was good news.

“Hmm, well. I guess you don’t really want to talk about it anymore ...” – “I really don’t.” – “So how about I teach you some moves? They don’t call me the dancing queen for nothing, you know.”

And in the end, the instructor might have not been so pleased that instead of learning the waltz they’ve been assigned, he taught Emre how to moonwalk, but in the end, the young Liverpool player was smiling again. And honestly, that was the most important thing.

♪♫♬

Well, if there was one thing André was at the moment, it was pissed at himself for not having the nerve to sneak away earlier. Or at least the insight to pick a different dance partner. Of course, it was obvious that Mario picked him, and it wasn’t like he minded; they were friends! Or well, at least normally, André wouldn’t have minded.

But of course, he should have known this would end like things with Mario always did lately – with him moping about the lack of Marco being there with him.

After about a dozen sighs and at least three mumbled “Marco would have enjoyed this”, André decided to do something about it before his future teammate would drive him crazy. (God knows he wasn’t prepared for how much of a third wheel he’d be the second the three of them would play at Dortmund together.)

The easiest way to distract Mario was usually by pointing out various stuff – he was a bit of a kid in that way, easily entranced by things around him. Letting his eyes flick over the room, the first thing that André noticed was how Manuel and Thomas had just fell to the ground for a third consecutive time in Thomas’ futile attempt to dip his much larger dancing partner.

He let out a little chuckle, and Mario quickly joined him as he turned his head.

“It would be so much easier if Manuel would just get off his ass and take the lead himself.”

Mario giggled. “Oh, then you don’t know Manu well enough – if he’s made up his mind about something, it’s almost impossible to change it again. And if he wants to be treated like a princess at her first ball, then so be it.”

The image of Manuel wearing a big ballgown that consequently popped up in André’s mind was as hilarious as it was horrifying, so quickly, he let his eyes skip over to the next couple – Mats and Benedikt were still awfully close, but at least they seemed to be trying now.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see that Mario had followed his gaze, but when his eyes landed on Hömmels, he quickly started to frown again, looking like a kicked puppy, so André quickly changed the topic.

“Have you seen Draxler and Leroy? I don’t think they have a single clue what they’re doing.”

To be fair, André had seen Leroy dance before, the last time someone had put on music a few nights ago, but ballroom dancing clearly wasn’t his thing. The pained look on Julian’s face told everything about how he didn’t appreciate having his toes stepped on.

It was quite funny, watching them, especially because both of them so clearly lacked motivation for this activity, but Mario seemed taken by something else.

“Since when do Bernd and Marc willingly do anything together,” he muttered, staring at his former U21 teammates. He wasn’t wrong; the two keepers had a reputation for being at each other’s throats, and while they’d grown more civil about their rivalry over the years, you wouldn’t have been able to call them friends even at the beginning of this training camp.

But now? Now they slowly went through their steps together, Bernd’s hand firmly grasping Marc’s waist, exchanging soft grins whenever their knees or feet bumped together.

They looked … cute, for the lack of a better word.

“Do you think …?”

André nodded slowly. “I think they might be. I mean, look at them.”

Mario shook his head, almost a bit incredulous. “God, I can’t believe it. Those two? Never in a million years would I have thought …”

He wouldn’t stop staring at them, but by the grin on his face André could tell that he was pleased albeit surprised with the development. And – thank god! – it had made him forget about Marco. At least for a second.

♪♫♬

Over the past week, Julian Weigl had grown used to the fact that the national team was just a tiny bit crazy. But this might just be the weirdest idea they’ve ever had. Or that Schweinsteiger had ever had, but same difference – with him as the captain, it was no miracle this felt more like an extended school trip than work.

At least, Julian had been prepared for the amount of PDA that was about to go down. Having Mats Hummels as a team captain helped with that, of course (considering how attached to a certain head smurf he was) and also, well, he might be one of the only people who knew about the other official couple that was currently dancing together. Perks of having a Bayern boyfriend that the two of them regarded as something like an adoptive son.

“It’s really cute,” Joshua had said as he’d cuddled up to Julian after their reunion, “how tentative they’re about the whole thing. This might be Manuel’s first real relationship, actually, I haven’t asked. But Thomas really fulfills his every wish as if he were made out of glass. It’s pretty adorable.”

Peeking over to where the two Bayern players were softly smiling at each other, Julian could only agree.

Jonas, on the other hand, seemed quite astonished by how close some of the players were. “I thought that was only a joke that the media liked to make,” Julian had heard him say to Podolski when they’d arrived and the Köln legend had engulfed his Bavarian counterpart in a big hug, kissing first his cheek and then, after checking that no one of the staff was in sight, his lips.

He’d blinked at Mats and Benedikt when they’d, as usual, made a scene out of their reunion, acting like they hadn’t seen each other for months when it’d probably been days at best, and was now openly gaping at Manuel who tried really hard to snuggle into Thomas’ arms despite being quite obviously too big for it.

“Is everyone in this team gay?” He didn’t sound disgusted, simply confused, so Julian only shrugged.

“About half of us, yeah.”

“Us?” Jonas blinked at him owlishly, an effect only enhanced by his big glasses.

“Oh yeah, I’m dating Jo.”

After a pause, Jonas frowned. “Aren’t you sad you can’t dance with him instead of me?” One of the unlucky ones, Joshua had been asked to stay back for another physio appointment as well.

Julian shook his head. “Nah. We aren’t one of those incredibly clingy couples. He knows that he doesn’t need to be jealous and I can actually have fun without him. Not like my former captain and his beloved Schalker. Actually, has someone ever told you that you look a bit like them? That’s not a bad thing, Josh is fully aware that he actually looks like Neuer and Müller’s lovechild.”

By the confused and slightly disturbed look on Jonas' face, he knew that it was better to shut up now.

♪♫♬

Mesut was blushing. They hadn’t been this physically close in years, probably, and Sami wanted to cry at how good it felt and how distant they still were, despite swaying together, their hands gently clasped around each other.

He didn’t, of course, but he couldn’t deny he was tempted to. Mes’ palm was warm in his own, and occasionally, he looked up to give Sami a shy smile.

It had been him who asked him to dance, surprisingly, and suddenly Sami had felt like a schoolgirl being asked out on their first date. He’d barely managed to stutter out a yes before Mes had taken his hand.

He’d felt the blood rush to his cheeks when the instructor had advised them to stand closer and it was the best damn thing he’d felt all year. Once more, he wanted to hit himself over the head for how he’d handled things back then; but still, he knew that it couldn’t have ended any other way. Not when he wanted to give Mes the space he needed, not when it was so inevitably clear they could never been a great thing like some of the other couples in this team. Not when they’d only hurt each other more.

Sami gritted his teeth, once more willing himself not to cry. They didn’t deserve this, especially not when this was, for now, everything he ever wanted: to hold Mesut in his arms once more, cradling him. It took everything in his willpower not to bend down, press a kiss on his dark hair.

“Sami? Everything all right?” Mesut seemed unsure about asking, as if he knew what the answer would be.

But even if they both knew it wasn’t, Sami nodded.

♪♫♬

It had been half an hour since the start of their dancing lesson, and even after trying again and again (though, from Leroy’s said definitely only under protest), neither of them were any good at this. Leroy was sure Julian’s toes must hurt quite a bit by then, even though the last time he’d stepped on them was already a while ago.

In turn, the tall brunette hadn’t even looked a tiny bit apologetic when he’d stepped on his foot two minutes ago.

Usually, the two of them got along quite well, being former colleagues and friends as well, but right now, both of them seemed vaguely pissed off. It didn’t help that Julian hadn’t said anything at all and instead only shot the occasional glare at any of the other pairs who mostly didn’t only seem much better at this than them, but also seemed to enjoy it more and mostly more pleased with their dancing partner of choice – even if, if he was being honest, there was really nothing that could have brought Leroy to dance as close with Jule as Benni and Mats were.

(Really, being straight in this team? Seemed like a curse more often than it didn’t.)

But all in all, Leroy didn’t get it. Sure, this wasn’t his favourite thing to do either, but there was no reason to be this grumpy about it; certainly not for Julian, who might have been known for being slightly particular, but usually was pretty easy-going and game for a lot of things.

But then, then Julian suddenly groaned and said, “God, I miss Matze.” The look on his face told Leroy everything else he needed to know.

“Matze?” Ginter? He added silently in his mind. Well, there was something he hadn’t known about his friend. And in all honesty, he had no idea what to say to that.

Sure, he’d grown used to potentially queer footballers quite quickly – had to, as soon as he’d become a part of this team, even if it had been more of a shock therapy than anything else, to see some of the guys all over each other – but that Julian was one of them too, Julian who he’d known for such a long time and …

Before he had time to finish that thought, on the other side of the room, he saw Müller pulling Neuer down to him by grabbing his shirt after they’d, for the first time, successfully completed the dip, and joined their lips together in a series of quick pecks.

Some people cheered, and it was Mats who wolf-whistled and exclaimed “so you finally decided to make it official!" startling amused laughter from everyone surrounding them, while Leroy still blinked at the goalkeeper and his dancing partner – boyfriend? – who were blissfully grinning at each other.

When he looked back up at Julian, the brunette only raised his eyebrows at him with an amused smirk.

“Shut up,” Leroy mumbled, unable to meet his eyes.

And well, let’s just say he learned a lot about his team and their relationships with each other that day. Certainly more than he ever wanted to know; but at least he definitely got better at picking out who might be dating who afterwards. And when, two days later, he walked into Julian softly talking to Matze over face time, he only greeted him with a wave before giving them some privacy, followed by an thankful look from Julian.

♪♫♬

Marc wasn’t really noticing much of everything that was going on around them. A few minutes ago, everyone had cheered and when Marc had managed to tear his eyes away from Bernd a few seconds later, everyone had already went back to what they were doing.

(Though he did catch Manuel’s eyes, who gave him a quick wink. Marc blushed.)

Bernd looked terribly focused, his eyebrows scrunched together, his lips pursed. He looked terribly endearing, even if he somehow resembles a newborn foal trying to walk for the first time. Neither of them could dance really well, they’d discovered, which should be weird consider that as goalkeepers, both of them were pretty nimble. Then again, dancing had never been Marc’s strong suit, and when he looked at Bernd with his awkwardly lanky limbs it also made sense that he wouldn’t excel at it either.

As a result, they kept bumping their heads and toes against each other occasionally, causing them to look up quickly, both of them blushing before ducking their heads and the whole thing would start over again.

Marc was pretty sure he had never blushed as much as during the past few days – always in incidents where his fellow back-up goalie was involved – but he just couldn’t help himself.

Bernd looked just so adorable with his cheeks tinted pink and Marc wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss him, no matter who could see, but he knew he couldn’t, knew that even if Bernd’s hand was curled protectively around his waist, he might not feel the same.

Really, it would probably have been easier to dance with someone else.

But then, Bernd looked up, gifting him with one of his rare smiles; one that Marc hadn’t seen before, tentative, tender. Just for him. And suddenly, he didn’t regret a thing.

And when Bernd spun him around, artfully like a dancer, in a motion so smooth it seemed impossible for the two of them to execute, he couldn’t help but beam back at him.

Afterwards, they simply rested in each other’s arms for a second, and when the instructor clapped her hands, asking them all to join her for a final evaluation of the lesson he found that he missed his presence in his arms already.

♪♫♬

(“Success”, Bastian slurred into Lukas’ ear later that night after he’d recounted everything that had happened while the Pole had still been at his appointment. “Missed you though, Luki.”

Lukas laughed quietly. “I miss you always, mein Hase,” he whispered into his hair before switching off the light, drenching the room in darkness.)

 

**Author's Note:**

>   * Well, that was a piece of 2016 nostalgia, the time I got into football ......
>   * Of course, in my story, they couldn't dance with the girls in the photos and had to make do with each other instead (but what else did you expect)
>   * I hope it became clear who was dancing with who! For the record, I also made sure to pin down who would be leading and who would be following, but with most couples it doesn't make a difference, so I won't be listing this here (usually, especially with the not shippy ones, the taller one is the one to lead)
>   * I only made the players join the dancing lesson who were actually on that photo; I simply assumed the rest were otherwise occupied – and well, I enjoyed writing the whining about missing partners, not gonna lie (I hope I didn't forget anyone oh my god)
>   * Gomez low-key hitting on Toni and Toni being very nonplussed by it was inspired by [The Anti-Valtentine's Club](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9646928) by the lovely Delilah!
>   * And the person Emre is pining for ..... yeah it's Loris. Who is happily with his bae. Sorry, Emre :/
>   * Title from Niall Horan's _This Town_
>   * ..... SORRY FOR ALL THE TAGS
>   * I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way
> 

> 
> Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)


End file.
